


Hold Me Tight Or Don't

by GracefulVengeance



Series: love, selfish love [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12906882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefulVengeance/pseuds/GracefulVengeance
Summary: “And when your stitch comes looseI want to sleep on every piece of fuzz and stuffingthat comes out of youI took too many hits off this memoryI need to come down.”





	Hold Me Tight Or Don't

When Seth shows up on Dean’s porch, a sheepish smile on his lips that betrays all the history between them, Dean’s first instinct is to slam the door in his face. Something makes him pause just long enough for Seth to get a word in.

 

“Dean-” he starts.

 

“What are you doing here?” Dean grunts. One word out of Seth’s mouth is already more than he deserves.

 

Seth’s lips part again to speak but quickly close, every word that he prepared flying out of his head all at once. So much for that plan, some “architect” he was. Seth takes a deep breath and dares to meet Dean’s gaze, his blue eyes so icy he feels a chill run down his spine.  His resolve is strong, and he hopes he can convey something through his eyes that words can’t describe well enough. Something that would keep Dean from walking away.

 

Dean has to tear his gaze away from Seth, his teeth clenching as he feels the shadow of an ache in his chest. He tries to breathe, and his anger starts to fizzle out, replaced by something he thought he’d thrown away a long time ago.

 

“Give me one good reason not to slam this door right in your face.” Dean says, trying to keep up the wall he’d built, which had turned to sand sooner than he’d ever admit.

 

The tight crease in Seth’s brow relaxes. He’s unable to help a small quirk of his eyebrow as he holds up a 12-pack of beer in one arm, and a bag of undetermined snacks in the other.

 

“I’m not that cheap, Rollins. What makes you think you can buy me off with chips and brews?”

 

“Because I know you. It’s a peace offering, I just wanna talk,” Seth admits to himself that even that is a ridiculous request, shocked he even got this far.

 

“Don’t claim to know me. You lost that privilege a long time ago,” Dean replies darkly.

 

Seth winces. He’s about to turn and head back to his car with his tail between his legs when he sees Dean step off to the side and leave the door wide open. He sighs and jerks his head, inviting Seth in. Seth’s eyes go wide and his mouth falls open slightly, quietly shuffling past Dean and into his house.

 

“Don’t make me regret this,” Dean mumbles.

 

Seth walks through the foyer and makes a beeline for the living room, having the layout of Dean’s house committed to memory. He stops at the entrance, noticing immediately that the furniture had been rearranged, with small additions that had accumulated over time. He placed the beer and snacks on the coffee table, suddenly feeling like a total stranger.

 

Dean flops onto the couch with a grunt and rips open the cardboard box to grab a can. He pops open the cap a little too quickly and a bit of foam bubbles up from the top. He puts his mouth over the opening and slurps the overflow loudly. Seth is still standing, wringing his hands and watching Dean. He can’t help the tug of a small smile on his lips, seeing that Dean hasn’t changed at all. Dean looks up from his beer and motions to the couch.

 

“You’re allowed to sit, you know,” he says, leaning back and crossing his legs, beer still in hand.

 

Seth sits down against the arm of the couch, a distinct amount of space between the two of them. He eyes the torn cardboard box, the jagged opening looking like something exploded out of it.

 

“There’s a _proper_ way to open that you know,” he says teasingly.

 

“Still a Mr. Judgey Pants I see,” Dean replies.

 

Seth sees the ghost of a smile on Dean’s lips, the telltale dimple in his cheek giving it away. He grabs a beer, cracks it open and takes a hearty gulp. Dean takes another long sip and burps, reaching out for the bag of food.

 

“What’d you get?” he asks as he rifles through the bag.

 

“A bag of Takis, Cheetos, and some Lays,” Seth watches with a smile as Dean claims the plain bag of potato chips.

 

“Alright, you said you wanted to talk. So talk,” Dean says through a mouthful of chips.

 

Seth feels his heart skip a beat, almost forgetting why he’d showed up here in the first place. Once again he’s left speechless. He tries to take a few deep breaths to calm down, idly sipping his beer and opening the bag of Takis to kill time. He stuffs a few into his mouth and chances a look at Dean, who’s staring at him expectantly. Seth jumps a little, some of the Taki flavoring sneaking into the back of his throat. He coughs and dusts some of the powder onto his pants.

 

“Well, I should start by saying I’m sorry… for, you know, everything,” he pauses, wincing at the awkwardness of the apology.

 

“Right,” Dean replies, finishing off his beer and going for another.

 

Dean’s cold indifference hits him a little harder than he expected, though with a half-assed apology like that he doesn’t blame him. _C’mon you fucking coward. Dean isn’t going to take you seriously with shit like that. Not after all that’s happened. Nut up and make him see how sorry you are._

 

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, going over everything that’s been said, everything that I’ve done,” he pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I was wrong.”

At this, the stiff line of Dean’s jaw relaxes and his overall expression softens. He puts down his drink and the chips and turns to face Seth.

 

“Alright, I’m listening,” he says.

 

“I messed up, okay? I completely fucked everything up! I thought it was worth it, but it wasn’t. It never was. I spent so much time hating myself, hating every single word that came from my mouth... I have a mountain of regrets Dean but my biggest one was hurting you,” Seth’s hands ball into fists at his legs.

 

Seth notices movement out of the corner of his eye and looks at Dean, seeing that he was leaning forward, his face in his hands.

 

“Why are you doing this? Why now?” he asks quietly.

 

Seth bows his head in shame, knowing exactly what this kind of conversation would mean. For Dean and for himself. He’s been selfish, yet again.

 

“I just wanted you to know. It may be too late, but I needed to get it all off my chest. Whether or not you decide to accept it is up to you.”

 

Dean takes a deep breath and leans back against the couch cushion. “I want to.”

 

“You do?” Seth asks, hope tinting his voice.

 

Dean leans forward and grabs his beer, tipping it back and guzzling the rest of it down. “Yup.”

 

“I feel like there’s a but there,” Seth sighs.

 

“No but, just questioning the sanity of that feeling,” Dean replies with a lopsided smile.

 

Seth fidgets, suddenly feeling very self conscious. He’s about to say something when he feels Dean’s hand on his arm.

 

“You shouldn’t say anything else, you should just stay,” Dean says, almost too quiet to hear.

 

Seth freezes, trying to process what he thought he heard. He lets the silence hang for what seems like an eternity when he feels Dean’s hand squeeze his arm once before he moves it away. Dean grabs the bag of chips and takes a handful, popping them into his mouth.

 

“Or don’t,” he says, with a nonchalance that contradicts the quiet plea in his voice just a moment ago.

 

“Of course I’ll stay,” Seth says finally, not chancing to make physical contact again. Despite how much he wants to.

 

“Cool,” Dean replies. “Well it’s getting pretty late. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

 

Seth’s heart sinks, the disappointment boring into his chest. He tries to push that aside, knowing full well that things couldn’t go back to normal so quickly. Hell, he wasn’t even sure they were on “good terms” yet. He nods and gets up, lingering by the edge of the couch for just a moment.

 

“Goodnight, Dean. And thank you for listening.” Seth hears Dean grumble in response before he walks upstairs.

 

Seth spends a few minutes shuffling about awkwardly in Dean’s room. There was nothing very distinct about Dean’s room, no defining features that would make it obviously his. The walls were bare, the color scheme showcasing a mix of muted blues and greys. The only furniture present were necessary things like a bed, dresser, and a night table. A bookshelf sat against the wall adjacent to the door, the shelves overflowing with books. A flat screen TV stood mounted on the wall, and the bed was unmade, the covers still tossed about from this morning.

 

He strips down to his t-shirt and boxers and crawls into the bed, pulling the covers up above his head. It smells like Dean, and Seth feels an aching loneliness start to build. He rolls over, turns the bedside lamp off, and lays on his side. He tries to control his breathing, making it even as he lets his eyes flutter closed. He spends what feels like an hour tossing and turning when he hears the door creak open. The shuffling of hesitant feet and a looming presence causes Seth to open his eyes.

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” is Dean’s half-assed response. “Looks like we’re in the same boat.”

 

Seth nods, still feeling intensely self-conscious about… well, everything. Without saying anything else, Dean slips under the covers, his back facing Seth’s front. After a minute or so he scoots closer, his shoulders hovering just a few inches from Seth’s chest. Dean’s simple gesture has Seth reeling, but he somehow knows exactly what Dean is trying to say.

 

“Hold me tight, or don’t.”

 

This isn't the cure all. Seth knows that. He knows this doesn't mean "I forgive you" or "let's start over". He knows there will be plenty of talking to do in the morning, and things wont ever quite be the same. He knows the work he'll have to put in to regain Dean's trust will be immense.

 

Seth takes a deep breath, prepared for every scenario, and wraps his arms around Dean’s middle. With that simple action the tension in the room melts, and the two of them sleep better that night than they have in months.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know in the comments if you like this series and want it to be continued! Input and ideas are always welcome! This series was inspired by FOB songs obviously, so I would like to continue with that trend if possible. I'm working on part 2 of this one so expect that to be out soon!


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